The Portrait of the Unknown One
by lemondropseverus
Summary: What if Catherine had not lost her last girl?What if she became a woman of extraordinary wit?What if she befriended Anne?Find all out in a story that depicts the life of a girl who saw it all: death,love and ambition in the most corrupted court of Europe. CHAPTER 1 RE-WRITTEN TO INCLUDE MORE INFORMATION!
1. Once upon a time

_Dear Readers,_

_When I started this story almost four years ago I didn't really realize how immature and rather shallow my writing style was. As years have gone by, more often than not I pondered simply deleting this story. Yet, something stopped me. The fact that so many of you took precious time out of your daily lives to read and review this work of fiction made me try, to the best of my ability, to improve it. _

_I thus present the new, and hopefully better, version of The Portrait of the Unknown One. _

_Yours faithfully, _

_Lemondrope_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudor dynasty, nor do I have a claim to the superb TV-show The Tudors. If I did, things would have turned out very differently for a lot of historical characters._

* * *

**THE PORTRAIT OF THE UNKNOWN ONE**

**Chapter 1****: Once upon a time**

_August 1525_

The young child seemed small and insignificant in the queen's sumptuous apartments. She turned her head and tried to take everything in with the eagerness of a thirsty man offered a cup of water. She had been in that room a great deal of times but at that particular moment, when the time to leave was drawing ever so near, everything seemed brighter, much more colourful. Her seven-year old mind marvelled at things that had gone unnoticed beforehand: the pale cream of the curtains, the large cross by the window, the cheery fire in the stone fireplace. All those things she had taken for granted before seemed infinitely more precious now and she tried her best to have them imprinted in her mind for all eternity.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and relished in the smell of burning candles combined with her mother's faint, flowery scent. She wondered for a second whether she would be able to smell her mother's perfume ever again. Whether she would ever be able to hug her mother or play with her in the gardens. Whether she would ever be able to kiss her mother goodnight or listen to her wonderful stories about Spain. Feeling tears form behind her closed eyelids she opened her bright blue eyes and tried to restrain the small, salty droplets of water that were threatening to fall on her pale cheeks.

She could see her elder sister standing next to her, clad in a beautiful golden dress and headpiece that made her look a lot more older than her tender age of nine. For a moment the girl envied her. Restrained and quiet as she always was, no emotion seemed to pass on her sister's visage and Mary seemed to be perfectly composed. She wondered if Mary truly understood the gravity of the situation and if she did, how she could be so calm and resigned. They were sent away and God only knew when they would be allowed to come back. Every fibre in her body urged her to scream and throw a un-lady-like tantrum. Yet, if her sister was feeling the same things that she did she definitely was not showing it. At that particular time, her sister truly looked like the princess she was supposed to be and the girl could not help but feel a flicker of admiration for her, especially as she, herself, was fighting a loosing battle with her feelings.

Standing in front of Mary, her mother was talking to her sister in her native Spanish. Although her command of Spanish was less than satisfactory, the girl was able to understand a few of the woman's words. Yet, it was not in her words that the girl was interested but in her mother's persona. As she had done with the room, she tried to seal in her memory as much about her mother as it was humanly possible. In the girl's eyes, her mama was the most beautiful lady in the world. She had long, dark hair, pale skin, and warm blue eyes that seemed to always be filled with love when she looked upon her. Her voice was soft, her hands were always warm and her caresses were caring and filled with infinite gentleness.

She did not understand why she had to be parted from her mother. After all, she was of little to no consequence. Mary was the one who was going to be Queen when Father passed away, and thus she was the one who needed to learn how to be independent and manage her own household. She did not. It made sense for them to send her sister away to become Princess of Wales, but it did not make sense for her to be sent away. After all, she had her own tutors at the palace and they taught her all she needed to know. What difference would it make if she learned all that in London or somewhere in the middle of the English countryside?

"Ava…" their mother's soft voice broke through her musings and the girl suddenly focused her attention on the queen who was now at her eye level.

Her mama seemed sad, a bitter smile spread on her pretty features and Ava could feel her own cheeks flustered and her eyes once again swell with tears. Unlike the last time when she had managed to contain them, her mother's blue eyes looking at her made the treacherous droplets of water fell freely on her cheeks. Her mother caressed her face and wiped away her tears with a trembling hand.

"Don't send me away, mama! Don't send me away!" the words suddenly burst out and a flicker of pain appeared on the queen's handsome features.

"Be brave, child…" the woman said calmly trying not to scare the young girl and rose to standing position to kiss her daughter on the forehead.

"I don't want to leave, mama! I don't want to leave! I promise I will be good and do whatever my tutors tell me to do! Please! Don't send me away!" she sobbed pathetically and enveloped her short arms around her mother's waist, holding onto her for dear life.

"Ava…" the woman started with a voice filled with emotion, trying to gently make her daughter let go of her.

"No! No! No! Please, mama! I will be good! Please!" the child articulated between sobs, her tiny, seven-year-old frame shaking with tears.

"Sweetheart, you need to go… you need to learn how to be a princess and manage your own household… it is for the best…" it was with a heavy heart that the queen pronounced these words, her hands relentlessly patting her daughter's wavy dark hair.

"Don't make me go… please…" she whispered softly with much less energy than before, her grip on her mother's waist lessening considerably. The queen nodded calmly towards Lady Salisbury and the woman came to the princess and, taking her by the waist, parted her from her mother.

"No! No! No!" Ava screeched and tried to kick the elderly countess and break free from her iron grip. "If you send me away, I will hate you forever!" she yelled, her desperation at being shipped off in the unknown making her unconsciously change tactic from pleading to emotional blackmail.

Steeling herself against her own child's words of hate, Queen Katherine of England took a deep breath and turned her back on her two daughters, unconsciously gripping the table in front of her until her knuckles were snow white. Mary watched the scene with interest and could feel her own eyes fill with tears, a myriad of repressed emotions threatening to rear their ugly heads. Quietly she walked out of the room, following an unconcerned Lady Salisbury who was struggling to keep a hold of her belligerent sister. Kicking and screaming, Ava kept repeating the words "I hate you" like a mantra of comfort.

* * *

_November 1518_

_The 10__th__ of November 1518 was promising to be an important day for the kingdom of England. At the age of thirty-two Queen Katherine was, for what posterity will recognize as the sixth and last time, with child and the country's hopes for a healthy young prince had once again been raised. The young Henry Tudor, better known as King Henry the VIII, was the one who most eagerly awaited the princes' safe delivery. Year after year, pregnancy after pregnancy, his hopes had been raised up only to be dashed and he wanted to believe that, at that moment, his patience and prayers would be rewarded and that a healthy young prince would be born. He knew, or at least hoped, that God was merciful enough to give him a healthy boy, that God was merciful enough to grant him the male heir he so desperately needed._

_The queen had started to have the labour pains early in the morning which, according to the midwives, was sign of a healthy child. Yet, in spite of this positive prediction Henry could not help but try to keep his emotions in check and excitement at bay. After four children lost and only one alive, he could not help but feel a pang of doubt at the welfare of the creature. Unlike other times when the queen's confinement meant lavish parties and wine flowing freely, on the 10__th__ of November 1518 the king had chosen to await the delivery of his child in the solitude of his study. Ever so often he would raise his stately figure to either pace the hard wood floor of his office or to raise a prayer to the heavens for either a male heir or at least a living child. _

_Although a boy would have surely been preferable, at that particular point in time, as the impending arrival of the child into the world was drawing nearer and nearer, King Henry would have settled with a healthy girl. His uncharacteristic compromise steamed from two reasons. Firstly, the king truly believed that his heart could not bear the loss of yet another child. As such, he reckoned that a healthy princess would be preferable to a dead prince. Secondly, his only surviving daughter, Mary, was a sickly girl who, as much as it pained him to admit it, had little chance to live long enough to become his heir. He knew that England had never been successfully ruled by a woman before and he was well aware that a new dynasty such as the Tudor dynasty needed a price to avoid civil war after his death, but maybe, just maybe, if the child was a girl and she was worthy enough, he could train her to become England's heir and he could convince the parliament to accept her. After all, unlike France, England's throne was not subject to the Salic Law, thus, it could technically be inherited by a woman. _

* * *

_August 1525_

The King was desperately trying to focus on some of the petitions Cardinal Wolsey had brought early in the morning when he recognized the piercing sound of his daughter's screaming voice through the thick walls of his study. Quill-pen stopped in mid-air and papers suddenly forgotten, he tried to make out what his daughter was yelling. Straining his hearing he could clearly make out the words "I hate you" and his blood froze in his veins. Why was Ava yelling so forcefully? And towards whom were her words directed?

Truthfully, his daughter was definitely not the best-behaved child in the country. Nor was she the quietest one. In fact, the younger princess was sometimes as badly-behaved as a stable-boy and Henry was aware that he was partially to blame for her unruly conduct, for, with every occasion he had, he spoiled her rotten. Unlike Mary who seemed to take after her mother in her devotion for the church and pleasure for study, Ava seemed to be the type of child who sought more earthly pleasures and did not have any interest in elevating her spirit. Quite frankly, she reminded her of him at that age and this, although he loved both his children, made him feel slightly partial towards the younger princess. That being said, when all her tutors had dully reported to the king that the princess was very bright yet consistently failed to apply herself, he had agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to send Ava away to force her to grow up and realize the amount of responsibility which ,because of her rank, was placed on her shoulders. Yet, despite her often rowdy conduct, which included, but was not limited to, hiding away from her tutors and making them look for her for hours, she had never once yelled this much or this vigorously.

Taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what was sure to be an unpleasant situation, the King rose form his desk and purposefully strode from his private office, looking for the source of the sound. He had a sneaking suspicion why Ava was as upset as she seemed to be and he would have preferred to not involve himself too much in this situation. As such, he had bid both his daughters goodbye the previous night and had claimed that he would unfortunately be unable to bid them farewell in the morning. While his youngest had seemed clearly upset and had hugged him tighter than ever before, she had not appeared to be prone to making any scene. Yet, as he reached the source of the yelling, he knew that the circumstances were even more complicated than he had expected it to be.

Maybe if his own daughter had not been involved in the scene, he would have found it comical. Ava, as determined and stubborn as she always was, a trait Henry suspected she had gained from both her parents, was screaming while being pushed from behind from a clearly struggling Lady Salisbury who was trying to avoid the princess' attempts to bite her hands. Behind them, Mary was walking with her head bent, not in mortification at the scene her sister was creating, but because she tried to hide the silent laughter that was coursing through her body.

"Lady Salisbury, unhand the princess immediately!" the king ordered quickly and as soon as the princess was freed, he had his arms full with a seven year old child.

"Papa! Papa!" his youngest daughter said in a croaky voice from all the screaming and with a sigh he enveloped his arms around her tiny shoulders "Mama is sending me away! Please don't let me go!"

For a moment Henry considered correcting her and telling her that Katherine had no hand whatsoever in her leaving the castle. But he quickly remembered her words of hatred and saw the wretched expression on her face. He did not want those words to be directed at him and he clearly did not wish to be the cause of her tears. As such, he held his tongue and allowed his daughter to continue her train of complaints, which all revolved around her leaving the castle. When she finished, he quietly held her tighter and allowed her to calm herself against his shoulder.

"Sweetheart, you need to go…" he started calmly, his eyes facing the red-rimmed ones of his child "But it will not be for long… you will be back very soon, my love" he quickly added at seeing her heartbroken, hurt expression.

"Yes, Ava… we will come back very soon!" Mary quietly addressed her sister for the first time since the entire situation arose and although her words held much less conviction that those of her parent, the girl seemed oddly comforted by them.

"Do you promise?" she whispered softly towards her father after offering a brief smile towards her sister, much calmer in his presence than ever before.

"Yes" he said softly kissing her on the forehead and ruffling her black curls with his hand. "Now, will you be a good girl for papa and go into the carriage quietly?"

"Yes, papa…" she nodded dejectedly and quietly made her way towards the exit of the palace she had considered home for the past seven years "Papa… I love you…"

"I love you too, sweetheart" he replied, feeling like the last man on the face of the earth. "Mary, come here…" he motioned for his eldest daughter to come and she complied quietly.

He looked at his eldest daughter and presumptive heir and felt something akin to pride. She seemed to grown-up, so mature and so composed that he could not help but admire her. While Ava tended to demand more of his attention and time because their temperaments were more alike, at that particular time he was especially proud of having Mary as a daughter. It must have been as difficult for her as it was for the younger princess to part from her mother and home. In fact, he firmly believed that it was more difficult for Mary simply because she spent more time with Katherine than Ava did.

"Well done, Mary" he said calmly and placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead. His eldest daughter simply inclined her head, a brief smile appearing on her features and joined her sister in the carriage.

As King Henry the VIII watched both his daughters go he could not help but feel wretched. He had promised Ava that she would be back soon but he knew there was little chance of that happening. Things between himself and Katherine were not going well and were bound to get worse. He needed a male heir and he knew that the Queen would be unable to provide him with one. There was a great chance that he would seek an annulment before the year was over and that, in doing so, he would have to deny his own children. It would be better for both of them if they were not at court when the entire matter between Katherine and him was to be settled.

* * *

_November 1518_

_The pains were so great that the queen could not refrain from screaming, beads of sweat staining her forehead and her pale hands desperately clutching at the white sheets. Queen Katherine was no stranger to the pains of labour but that particular time it seemed to be harder, the pain seemed to be more searing and mind-numbing. She felt it in each fibre of her bones, in her strained muscles, in the erratic beating of her heart and the hardness with which she could barely draw breath. It was as if the child refused to tear himself out of his mothers' womb. She felt dizzy and could see the edges of her vision darken considerably. Like in a dream, the midwives kept swimming in and out of her line of sight, running in alarm as she kept loosing more and more blood. With superhuman effort she strove to keep conscious, her entire body trembling with the effort. Red blood seemed to be trickling incessantly down her legs, staining the crisp-white cotton sheets and each and every contraction made the nerves in her body fly up with pain. Unconsciousness was a very attractive prospect. Yet she knew that if she gave up there would not be any hope for the child. She would not loose another child. She could not. _

_"Save the child… whatever happens to me! Save the child!" her voice sounded feeble to her own ears and the midwives, who had all, save for one, flocked in the corner of the room awaiting instructions from the doctor, were surprised that the mother could speak. _

"_Your majesty, for the safety of the child we might have to…"the doctor started, coming next to the queen and wondering how he should phrase his next words. It was no little feat to tell a mother that you might have to cut her open, practically kill her, in order to free the baby from her womb._

"_It matters little what happens to me as long as the child is alive" Katherine whispered through gritted teeth, her hands spasmodically grasping at the sheets _

_Doctor Linacre nodded simply and wondered how he should proceed next. Should he alert the King of this recent development and ask him to make a choice, or was the queen's consent enough? It was with this quandary plaguing his mind that he heard the woman give yet another sharp cry and one of the midwives encouraging her to push. With uncanny determination, fighting against the pain, Katherine pushed one last time. As she fell limply on the sheets, darkness finally claiming her, she was rewarded with the gratifying sound of a newborn's cry. _

_"Your Majesty, you have a beautiful…" one of the midwives said holding the crying, bloody, baby her arms. Her phrase was cut short by the doctor who ran to the queen's side, for she was as pale as the white sheets on which she was laying and her chest was barely moving "… princess"_

_King Henry the VIII held his small daughter in his arms and watched with amazement as she seemed to be trying to grasp at some of the ornaments on his coat. She was a small, sweet perfect little creature and even if she wasn't the boy he had wished for, he could feel his heart swell with pride at the sight of his child. For a moment the disappointment he had felt when he had been told that the child was a girl seemed to be ridiculously out of place. After all, how could anyone in their right mind be disappointed in such a beautiful creature? Unlike Mary who, even as a newborn, had been uncommonly quiet, the small princess, less than an hour old, seemed to be terribly opinionated. Henry took particular pride in the fact that when she had been brought to him by the doctor his little girl had been wailing and screeching like a banshee in Linacre's arms and that she had stopped when she had been transferred into her fathers' arms. Of course, the princess had stopped crying because, unlike the doctor, the king was holding her so close to his chest that she was soothed by the sound of the powerful, regular beats of his heart. Yet, Henry did not know that particular fact. In his vanity, he firmly believed that the newborn child had stopped crying because he was her father and that she had recognized him as such. This small gesture of apparent recognition had made him almost forgive his daughter for being born a girl. _

"_You will have long beautiful, black hair, just like Katherine…" he whispered to the alert child, caressing the mop of unruly black hair on her head "How did the queen name the baby?" he directed his question in a moderate voice as not to startle his daughter, to the doctor, who was quietly standing next to the door of the study watching, with interest, the first interactions between father and daughter. _

_"Her majesty did not say, sire. I am afraid she was senseless at the time …" Doctor Linacre said solemnly and Henry quickly turned from the window and faced the man, worry etched in his handsome features. _

_"Is she well now?" the King inquired, his voice betraying a modicum of concern._

_There was little that Henry could reproach Katherine. She was a dutiful wife, diligent in her wifely duties and especially proficient in her duties as queen. Even if she was a few years older than him, she was a beautiful woman, a delightful companion and held a deeply profound love for him, matched only by her love of God. In spite of his extra-marital dalliances, he returned her love dutifully, respected her loyalty to him as king and husband, and admired her cultured and sometimes stubborn character. After all, how can you not love someone who wholeheartedly fulfils your every whim and carters to your ever desire? Truthfully, the only thing he could reproach his queen was that she was unable to produce male issue. Yet, at that time, to Henry's mind they were both still young that the fact that they had managed to produce two relatively healthy daughters meant that sons would follow. He wished no ill to his wife and, as such, hearing that she was unwell was nothing but disconcerting for the king._

_"I fear that the queen's situation is quite precarious. Her heart is not beating as strongly as we wish and her breathing is laboured …I am afraid she has yet to regain her senses" the doctor said as calmly as possible, not raising his eyes to meet those of the king. _

_"Do whatever is earthly possible to save the queen!" he ordered quickly, in an even voice, his arms unconsciously tightening around the small frame of his daughter_

"_Yes, sire… shall I take the child back to her mother?" Linacre offered helpfully knowing fully well that there was little he could actually do for the queen. She was in God's hands and if He wished to call her to Him, there was nothing he could do. _

_"No… Let her stay with me" the king answered calmly, looking at the now-sleeping form of his child. If Katherine were to, heaven forbid, pass away, he did not want his daughter in the same room when it happened "When the queen wakes up tell me immediately. God willing, that will happen soon."_

* * *

_August 1525_

As Ava's screams died down Katherine took a deep calming breath and allowed herself to sit on one of the table's wooden chairs. "I hate you". She was well aware that those three words would haunt her for all eternity, especially as they were spoken with such conviction. She had seen hatred in the girl's eyes and she had heard it in the tone of her voice. The queen was no stranger to emotional pain and humiliation. She had been bearing both with dignity for the duration of her marriage to the king. His dalliances with her own ladies in waiting, the uncertainty of not knowing with whom he had had intercourse and having to practically share her husband with all the ladies at court, were both hurtful and extremely degrading. Yet, she had managed to bear all that with her head held up high. But hearing her daughter, her own flesh and blood, proclaim her hatred towards her own mother so freely was almost too much to bear. It almost made her physically ill. She could feel her eyes well up with tears and was grateful that the solitude of the room allowed her to unreservedly express her feelings.

"Your Majesty, are you alright?" the voice of Elizabeth Darrell, one of her newest and youngest ladies in waiting, resounded behind her and Katherine took a deep breath of resignation.

"I am well, Lady Darrell" a bitter smile appeared on the Queen's lips. It seemed that she had to forgo the small blessing of privacy.

"Madam, you are very pale. Please allow me to at lest bring you a glass of wine…" the lady insisted with uncommon forwardness and the queen nodded her head, her thoughts once again lost in what had trespassed during the past hour.

* * *

_November 1518_

_When the queen finally opened her eyes, she felt like her body had both been broken in half and been pieced back together in the span of a few short hours. So sharp and piercing was the pain that she was experiencing that no matter how hard she tried, she found herself unable to lift herself up. For a moment she was unable to comprehend what had happened, the only thing on her mind being the ever-present, searing pain in her abdomen. Then, she remembered the circumstances that had led to that particular pain and, as much as she wanted to keep herself calm, she miserably failed. What had happened to the child? Where was her baby? Was he alive? A myriad of questions invaded her thoughts, the fact that her newborn was not with her leading to the most pessimistic of suppositions. With superhuman effort and eyes filled with tears of both pain and the realization that there was a real chance that the child did not survive, Katherine tried to demand answers from the young midwife that was comfortable settled at the foot of her bed. _

"_Where is…" she started in a strained, feeble voice, but found herself unable to continue, her breastbone pressing on her chest and robbing her of air. Her inability to form a cohesive phrase gave way to panic which had the unfortunate effect of diminishing her already scarce air supply. _

"_Your Majesty, do not strain yourself…" the young woman advised gently but her words were unheeded by the sick and tired queen who had managed to work herself up into a state._

"_My… Baby… " the queen managed between laboured, erratic breaths, her eyes closed against the revolving image of the room. _

"_The princess is with His Majesty, madam… she is a healthy, beautiful baby…" the midwife answered, genuinely hoping that her words would have a soothing effect on the royal consort. _

_With a satisfied smile, Katherine allowed her body to relax and her head to rest on the soft linen of the pillow. A daughter. As far as she was concerned, although she was fully aware that her duty as Queen of England was to produce a male heir, the gender of the child was of little importance. After so many children lost, if the child was healthy it mattered little to her if he was a boy or a girl. Katherine did not know how long she had been standing there, in her bed, with her eyes closed against the world, before she could hear the door opening and heavy footsteps enter her chamber. Hoping that her dizziness had somewhat abated, she opened her light blue eyes and was met with a sight that made her heart burst with pride and happiness and a tired smile appear at the corner of her lips. The King was standing in the middle of her chamber, a small bundle cradled in his arms and a sheepish smile gracing his handsome features. _

"_My Queen, I hope you are well enough to receive visitors…" he asked in a warm voice, noticing with concern how pale his wife's features were. _

"_Yes, husband. I am" she whispered weakly, her eyes travelling eagerly from his face to the bundle he held ever so carefully. _

_Sensing his queen's impatience and fully understanding her desire to meet her daughter, the King quickly strode from where he was posted to her side. Careful as not to disturb his already physically distressed wife, he carefully lowered himself next to her and placed the sleeping babe into her extended arms. Katherine took the child with trembling hands, deep emotion etched upon her fair features and tears filling her bright, yet tired eyes. She took the child to her breast and with her free hand she caressed the small face, the miniature hands, and the soft silky hair on her head. Amazed at such perfection, Katherine looked upon the princess and she could feel her heart invaded by such warmth and love that she knew then and there, he would willingly give up her life for the little, helpless creature._

"_My God, she is beautiful…" she whispered, her voice thick with tears of joy. _

"_That she is…" the king replied, moved by his wife's reaction to the child. In an impulse of affection for his consort, he wrapped his long arm around the queen's shoulders and kissed her forehead gently "How shall we name her?" _

"_Áve María, grátia pléna, Dóminus técum.__ Benedícta tu in muliéribus, et benedíctus frúctus véntris túi, Iésus. Sáncta María, Máter Déi, óra pro nóbis peccatóribus, nunc et in hóra mórtis nóstrae. __Ámen__" __almost oblivious of what her husband had asked her, the pious Queen raised a Hail Mary to the heavens to thank the Virgin for the beautiful gift that had been bestowed upon her. Ever since Mary had been born, she had desperately wished for another child. In incessant prayer she had asked the Heavenly Lord for her womb to be filled with the fruit of the king. For two long years she had waited and now, when she saw the gorgeous little creature in her arms she felt only appropriate that she should thank for her gift. _

_"Ave Maria…" Henry repeated thoughtfully, smiling slightly at the queen's deep devotion towards God "…Ava… we shall name her Ava…"_

_"Ava?" Katherine asked looking at Henry and smiling between tears. It was not a common name. In fact it was a name that she had never heard before. But it seemed strangely appropriate that the name of a child who had been born because of hours and hours of prayers to urge people to "hail". _

_"Yes… Princess Ava Tudor…" He pronounced the name and liked how it rolled on his tongue. It had a certain resonance in its simplicity and it spoke of a simple, powerful, unassuming character. He liked that. _

_"I always supposed you might what to name the baby Elizabeth after your mother, husband …" Katherine said softly, still enraptured with the newborn who had just then decided to wake up and join her parents' conversation. _

"_Elizabeth is a beautiful name but it is ill suited for this beautiful, small chid. No, Ava will do just fine…" he declared with confidence, offered his daughter one of his fingers and watched with satisfaction as she latched upon it with a small smile. _

* * *

_**Seven years later- somewhere in the English Countryside, 1532**_

The weather was so hot that the crops were dying on the fields and farmers took it upon themselves to go each Sunday to church and beg God for rain. Standing atop one of the moderately high mounds of dirt in the valley, the young woman surveyed the region, undisturbed by the merciless rays of sun that were burning everything, including her pale skin. She put a thin hand to her forehead to protect her eyes and looked at the dirt road leading to the mansion. A deep sigh was unwillingly expelled from her lungs, and she fought the urge to stop her foot. Nothing was ever happening in that place. There she suspected that even the cattle died of boredom. She was prepared to give up on her surveillance and retreat in the shadow of the big oak tree in the garden when she could suddenly hear the sound made by the hooves of a horse. Looking at the road, she saw a horseman approaching and with an suddenly interested smile she climbed down the mound, straightened her plain dress, checked her braided hair and ran to the gate of the mansion.

"How can I help you, sir?" she asked, with veiled eagerness, the man that had dismounted and was at her eye-level. He was a middle-aged man, with dark hair and a straight, prominent jaw. He was not exceedingly tall, but he had a something pleasing about his broad shoulders and comparatively narrow waist. His dress was formal and spoke of a certain standing and even she, who had been exiled from court for seven years could tell that it was foreign.

"Princess Ava?!" he inquired with deference, in a heavily accented voice.

"Yes, sir. How can I help you?" she answered simply trying to hide the fact that his presence was possible the most exciting thing that had happened in months.

"Eustache Chapuys, the ambassador of the Holy Roman Emperor, at your service madam… " he recommended himself with a bow and the girl acknowledged him with a nod of her head.

Chapuys took a moment to look at the young woman in front of him, for he had never once before laid eyes on the princess. Unlike her mother and sister, she was quite tall, a trait he supposed she attained from her stately father. She had a slim, maybe too thin, figure and her skin was fashionably pale without appearing to be sickly. Her face was not exceedingly beautiful but it did have a certain appeal, as her deep blue eyes and her rosy lips were contrasting in an interestingly alluring way with the whiteness of her cheek. Long, curly black-brownish hair, currently restrained in a simple braid fell on the back of her simple, blue dress made of fine cotton. Unlike the ladies at court, she did not wear jewels or adornments and it was obvious by her muddy, sturdy, leather shoes that she preferred to spend her time in the outside.

"And what does the Holy Roman Emperor want with me, Mister Ambassador?" she asked with a certain degree of derision in her tone, motioning the man to walk with her towards the house and discretely gesturing to one of the servants in the garden to take care of his horse.

"It is not on behalf of my master that I come to see you. I come with a message from the queen, your mother." He said calmly, and the girl's posture suddenly straightened at the mention of the queen "She urges you to come to court. Her sorrows and tribulations have been so great these past few years that she has become unwell and seeks comfort in the presence of her daughters. Her majesty told me that she has explained her circumstances and reiterated her request in her various letters… but maybe you have failed to receive them"

"I did not. I received all of Her Majesty's letters and know all about the annulment that His Majesty the King is seeking" she replied in a dry voice, her blue eyes piercing those of the ambassador.

"Then you must be acquainted with the terrible hardships the queen is facing. They why have you failed to reply to her urges, madam?" he asked, slightly in awe at how straight and unyielding the princess seemed for a split second.

"Pray tell me ambassador, do you have any children?" she inquired in the same unfeeling tone and Chapuyis felt that the discussion was not turning in the direction he wished.

"I have not been blessed with children of my own" he replied simply, genuinely interested in what the princess had to say.

"But if you had children, would you send them away? Would you abandon them? You see, sir, seven years ago, when I was crying for my mother she did not turn to me. When I expected her to say a kind word she did not. When I begged her to let me stay by her side, she turned her back on me. So why should I offer her relief, Mister Ambassador, when she did not extend the same courtesy to me?" she said all those words in such a cold manner that the ambassador was once again taken aback. When he had accepted to speak with the princess on behalf of the queen, he had not expected to be met with such a forceful reaction of repulsion from her. Instead he had expected her to be happy to be called to court and be by the queen's side.

"Because, I can see in your eyes madam, that you do not wish to spend the rest of your life in the countryside…" Chapuys knew that he had no chance of convincing the girl to come to court by talking of the Queen and how much she needed her. He then knew that he had to change tactic.

"I am happy here…" she said simply, challenging him with her eyes to disprove her statement.

"But you could be happier at court…A great deal of things have changed since you have been sent away." he tried tentatively and her face changed in a calculating look. The princess couldn't have known but she looked exactly like her grandfather, Ferdinand of Aragon.

Ava pondered her answer for a moment. It was true that she had absolutely no desire to spend her entire life in the countryside, and that she had been waiting for far too long for an invitation from court. Yet, she had little desire to involve herself in what had come to be known throughout the land as the King's Great Matter. From where she stood, it mattered little to her if the king had fallen in love with another woman and wanted to divorce her mother. In her naïve mind, she truly believed that such a course of action would have absolutely no impact on her and her standing whatsoever. On the other hand, she did long for some form of excitement and she also wished to see her father. Thus, Ava rationalized that as long as she went to court but managed to avoid her mother as much as possible, everything would be well.

"Mister Ambassador, do tell the Queen that I will join the court as soon as possible. But before you make your way to London, you must be tired and in need of some refreshments" she said calmly, offering her guest a courteous smile and inviting him inside the small castle.

* * *

Princess Ava Tudor watched her surroundings avidly. What Ambassador Chapuys had said was true: the court had changed immensely since she had left. It seemed that her father, always the one who wished to have fashionable, grand things, had taken upon himself to change some of the apartments and refurbish them completely. The apartment in which she was happily situated was in fact the same one that she had had as a child. A wave of nostalgia threatened to hit Ava when she saw that although the furniture had been changed, her father had kept her early artistic efforts pinned to the wall above the small oak writing desk. With a small satisfied smile she looked out of her window and could see that although some plants had been changed and some more trees had been planted, the layout of the gardens was as she remembered it to be.

" Your Grace, which of these dresses would you like to wear tonight? " the voice of Lucy, a petite, blond lively girl who was a few years her senior and was one of her ladies in waiting, broke through her musings and Ava focused on the two dresses, a green one and a blue one, that were carefully displayed on the bed.

For a moment the princess wondered whether those two dresses were indeed appropriate for court. They seemed so simple, and of so little consequence that she was afraid the general splendour of Whitehall would outshine them completely. Although in her exile she had always preferred dresses that were comfortable and allowed her to walk freely through the woods, she did not want to appear too simply-dressed and not at all fashionable when she was presented to her father. She truly regretted that in her haste to come to London she had neglected having new, more fashionable, dresses made.

"Your Grace, Lady Anne Boleyn is here to see you" another of her ladies in waiting, a shy girl with ginger hair, announced and Ava instinctively straightened her back and smoothed the creases in her in reddish interior robe.

The woman that entered her apartments was a very pretty, slim, young creature who was slightly shorter than the princess. She had long dark hair that flew freely on her back and was adorned with a pearl headpiece and slightly tanned skin. Ava reckoned that there was little that was truly striking about the woman who was supposed to be her father's current love. She was not exceedingly handsome, her eyes were too large and her face seemed too angular. Yet, there was something intriguing in her air. Maybe it was the way in which she carried herself or maybe it was the way in which those eyes seemed to be like hooks for the soul, but the young princess could understand why her father preferred this woman above all others. There was a certain air of danger and mystery about her and Ava knew immediately that it would be better for her to make friends with the woman.

"Lady Anne Boleyn, it is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance" she said with feigned warmth, politely inclining her head towards her guest.

"Likewise, Your Highness" Anne responded simply, secretly pleased at the deference the princess showed to her. Ever since he had found out that his youngest daughter would come to court Henry had excitingly mentioned her to Anne on more than one occasion. It was obvious than in the king's eyes she was the preferred child and as such, the ambitious lady thought it wise to ingratiate herself with the princess. "I have been charged by his majesty with a most important mission. I am to bring you a gift"

A swift motion of Anne's hand, and the princess was presented with a large package wrapped in white linen. Nodding in gratitude towards the lady, she quickly unwrapped the linen and gasped in surprise. In front of her stood the most beautiful dress she had seen in a long time. Made of purple silk and adorned with a silver leaves motif, the skirt fell into soft waves and shimmered into the low light of the candles. The bodice, made of the same purple material was adorned with small silvery jewels. Ava pressed her hand against the material and could feel its soft silky touch. With a smile she turned to her guest, who was avidly watching her reaction.

"It is beautiful. Thank you, Lady Anne, for bringing this to me" she said politely, once again nodding her head towards her companion.

"I am happy that you like it, your Highness" Anne responded with a slight smirk

"Am I to understand that you had a hand in choosing this magnificent gown for me?" Ava asked with a modicum of derision in her tone.

"His majesty chose the gown… I might have encouraged some of his choices…" she replied carefully, a mocking smile appearing at the corner of her reddish lips.

"Then I am eternally grateful for counselling my father, Lady Anne. The dress is truly magnificent" with a gesture of uncommon familiarity, the princess took the lady's hand in gratitude and offered her yet another smile.

"I am happy to be of assistance. Whatever you need, I will be glad to help" Anne responded clearly pleased at how warmly she was received by Henry's youngest daughter.

"Well, Lady Anne, I am afraid I will take you up on that offer for I have been gone too long and I know little of the life at court" Ava replied calmly and motioned the lady to take a seat next to her on the comforter. Pleased at how familiar the princess seemed to be, Anne started to tell her all about the court. The fashions, the dances and the most recent gossip.

* * *

**AN: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. More than a few things have been changed at the story will take a slightly different direction than it did the last time. Please let me know what you think of it through your Reviews. **


	2. The Picture

_AN: Thank you all who read my new story and a special and warm thanks to those who reviewed. I know that it sounds like a cliche but you are the ones who give me courage to write! _

_so thanks: HISTORYNERD_

_DARKVAMPIREWITCH_

_HOTREDHEAD  
_

_ AESTETICNARCISSIST_

_LADYJAXS999_

_BOLEYN GIRL 13_

_**YOU ARE GREAT GUYS!**_

_Advice: don't hate Ava... she's pretty (yeah right...)_

* * *

**Chapter 2: The picture**

**or What are the effects of her actions**

The hall was full of important people and the king was proud that he could offer his youngest daughter such a warm welcoming to court. The whole court was waiting for the princess having heard of her beauty and intelligence. The king was excited and by his side, Katherine of Aragon, having after a long time joined the court life, waited for her daughter. Mary was watching her parents as both of them joyful at the thought that her sister would come home.

Frankly, Mary could not remember Ava. It was strange but the past seven years had erased the memory of the younger sister. She remembered a sweet child with the features of their father but nothing more… Now she was really interested in the girl that would come and that had made the whole court raise in turmoil.

When the door opened the whole court fell silent and Anne Boleyn entered the hall proudly. Near the door she lifted her hand so as to call for someone. Everyone could see the white slim hand that took Anne's own and the tall girl that appeared in the room hand in hand with Anne. She was beautiful.

Following the other woman's advice the girl was dressed in a long purple gown with large gold jewelry adorning her wrists and slim neck. Her black hair that was usually falling on her back was now tided up in a loose bun and she had a small tiara in those rather messy curls. Being a little bit nervous at the occasion , Ava held firmly to Anne's hand and while her reddish lips were curved into a small smile. The king's mistress guided the girl towards the king and in now time Ava found herself in front of her parents.

"My king…." She curtsied in front of him and he smiled with pleasure as if he were watching a really humorous show.

"Daughter…" he said in his powerful voice and descended from his throne to greet her pull her into a powerful hug.

"Father…" she whispered happily in his arms. " I am so glad to be here, with your majesty…"

"No need to be so formal, sweetheart…" He said confidently.

"Yes it is, your majesty. I owe you respect as both my father and my king…" She said witty and he laughed at her response. She obviously knew how vain he was and such an answer made him feel important.

"You have been taught well!" he remarked and it was her turn to smile. "go and greet the queen daughter, because it is long since she has last saw you…" he ordered and observed a shadow crossing the girl's bright features.

Katherine saw how her beloved daughter passed from her husband to her and bowed her head respectfully. The queen felt her heart flutter with happiness at the sight of her daughter, her beautiful perfect daughter. Ava raised her eyes to see her mother and strangely, the woman could see coldness in the blue pools. Her majesty sat up and widened her arms so as to invite he child in a welcoming embrace, but Ava would not move. She had her head bowed and eyes fixed on the queen's beautiful features but her body did not respond to the obvious sign request. Katherine felt ashamed. Her own child would refuse to greet her mother properly. She was shocked and it pained her deeply that her sweetest child had done it. Anne laughed inwardly. She had to hand it to Ava, whose face was stone-carved and expressing any of the emotions she felt, she knew how to defy the queen, maybe better than Anne herself.

Mary looked at the scene displayed in front of her with mild interest. She remembered the black-haired girl now but she had little knowledge of her sister's personality. Thus she was not surprised that Ava committed such a great offence, the thing that pained her, though, was that the fact that their father hadn't reacted to Ava's behaviour was a proof that her mother's fortunes were going away. Henry decided to overcome this shaming incident with a grumpy look towards his wife, not his daughter who was actually the responsible for this mayhem.

"Let's Dance!" he ordered and joyful music was sang immediately. With a polite nod but not changing her frozen face expression the girl raised and Anne's hand caught hers immediately.

* * *

"What was that?" Anne whispered in her ear in a rather happy and amused manner.

"What was what?" The younger girl replayed dryly." Me greeting my parents?"

"You greeting your mother…" Anne explained and dragged the girl in the shadow of a corner of the room. The inquisitive eyes of the queen , who was still in shock , and of Chapuys , who thought that it was his business to know everything about the queen and her family, did not escape the two ladies out of their sight and the ambassador was almost able to hear what they were saying.

"Ah… that…" She said calmly showing no interest.

"That?! That was … stunning… you humiliated Katherine in front of all the court!" the older girl said with uncharacteristic passion.

"Yup… I am amazing…" Ava said dismissingly and Anne laughed at her cynical tone.

"Come on, let me present you someone…" the kings' mistress responded and dragged the girl, who was relived to get rid of uncomfortable questions, towards the rather tall Thomas Cromwell who was talking with the well-known Thomas Whytt.

* * *

Katherine could not bear to see her beloved daughter talking with the hawk that had caused Mary and her so much pain. With a quick nod towards the king , Katherine raised and strode across the hallway and her oldest daughter joined her quickly. All heads bowed in respect for the queen. All but one.

Ava held her head high and pierced her mother's kind stare with her own. She smiled inwardly at the almost defeated look of the older woman. What had happened with the mighty royal woman who had dared, against all motherly feelings, to turn her back on the crying child? Where was the queen that had loved her sister more than anything in the world and had let her other offspring to waste her childhood in the middle of nowhere without even inquiring after her? Ava felt a wave of pity for this woman but suppressed it quickly. She had long ago learned that if you let your feelings rule over reason you will only waste your talents. And the girl didn't want to waste any of hers.

* * *

Katherine rushed in her room almost on the verge of tears, with Mary faithfully behind her. Feeling her feet giving away with the striking pain she sat on the chair near the fireplace and her daughter kneeled at her mother's feet and took her hand in her own.

"Don't cry, mama…" she whispered calmly and soothingly. This 16 year old girl had the maturity of an adult and she understood her mother's bitter feelings. What she did not understand was her sister's cold reaction. Everyone loved their mother, why wouldn't Ava love and admire her?

"Mary…" the woman whispered trying to retain her tears and caressing her daughter's face. " You are a blessing…"

"I am sure she will come round, mama…"the girl said smiling at the compliment but not being distracted from the problem at hand.

"I wish you were right, preciossa, but she will not…" the queen answered looking blankly at the floor. " I know that look… She is driven by ambition… "

"What kind of ambition?" Mary inquired kind of confused. She was not good at understanding non-Christian things like ambition.

"I do not know, hija… I do not know what she wants to prove. But I fear. Ambition is the death of those who have it. I've seen it in so many. I've seen it in my mother, who died a bitter lonely death, I've seen it in your grandfather who pursued his interests un until the very last moment of his life and I've seen it in that whore , Boleyn…" Katherine said sadly at the association of her child with that woman.

"Ava cannot be like that harlot!" the girl said confidently, almost fanatically.

"I fear that she is… And while Mistress Boleyn has fought to gain power, Ava already has it. God knows what she will do. God knows what she wants…"

* * *

"Madam, I am afraid that He does not…" a powerful voice stated impatiently from the doorway and ambassador Chapuys made his way in.

"What do you mean, sir?" Katherine asked her faithful friend who was awfully angry.

"I just come from the reception hall, where, after the princess has danced with that unworthy poet, she has declared herself in favour of Luther and his heretic ideas!" Chapuys said gravely and the queen felt her heart sink almost literary.

"What did the king, my father, say?" Mary asked with horror seeing that her mother had become pale and was unable to speak.

"He was more than pleased with her thoughts as he, himself, is inclining towards Protestantism. It is useless to say that the witch was beaming and that the court almost cheered for the princess' revolutionary ideas…" He said bitterly and unhappy that the queen seemed so distressed. "I hope that I have not caused you unnecessary distress, madam…"

"No… no… it was good to tell me, ambassador…" she said with a feeble smile.

"At least we know what to expect…" Mary said sensibly. "I did not expect her to be a heretic apart from being a poor daughter and a shameful subject." She continued angrily almost hating Ava for what she did to their mother.

"Mary… do not speak ill of your sister…" Katherine admonished her gently and Mary looked almost appalled. "At least not in front of me…" she followed calmly in a hurt voice.

"Mother…" Mary said furiously. Why would her mother defend this prodigal daughter who was causing, up to now, only, mayhem? Trying to calm herself and to run away from the picture of her broken mother the princess raised , wished a polite "good night " at both the ambassador at the queen, and retired to her room with no further word.

"What am I going to do, Chapuys?" the queen asked faintly after Mary had closed the door a bit too hard for her taste. Now, she had a furious daughter and a lost one and while the older princess will still be connected with her mother after her childish anger passed, Ava, the queen was sure, was lost forever. At the queen's painful question Chapuys, the diplomat genius could only shrug. He had no idea.

* * *

Shortly enough, Ava became the centre of attention for the court. Everyone loved her, the king being, of course, first in line. He completely adored his daughter that was a splitting image of himself when he was young. She was always merry and energetic and those traits would rub on anyone who spent time with her. It was impossible to laugh when the princess was around. It was impossible not to admire her when she talked about "man" stuff like politics or religion, as she always had a womanly way of stating her opinion without making it seem offensive or childish. And it was impossible not to notice her good looks every morning when she went out for a ride with her father.

Henry loved those long rides with his daughter through the forest. Sometimes Anne and some other courtiers would join them and they would have picnics and dances in the middle of the forest as Ava and Anne seemed very comfortable in each other's presence. But what he truly liked was when he and his child were alone and they would talk about everything. She was capable of having a sensible and respectable discussion and when the subject turned unpleasant for both of them she would always have a way of making him laugh. She was a great rider and they would often race, and after the first time that Henry wanted to let her win and was so shamefully defeated, he understood that her riding skills could match his own.

One day he showed her how to swordfight and she caught up quickly so once in a while you could see the king and his daughter fence in the back yard of the palace, or if it was too cold, in the reception hall. Every other day, Henry would teach her how to joust or play tennis and although they were activities unsuitable for a young girl they did not care. She didn't give a fig about it because she liked doing all this things with her father. And he didn't care because she, subtly, had become the boy he was yearning for.

* * *

Ava and Anne had developed some kind of strange friendship. Both being almost alike in their desire for power, both being the centre of the court, both being popular, the two women had learned to get on well with each other and even serve each other's interests. While Ava would encourage her father in his desire to marry Anne, the latter would talk only sweet things about her future "step-daughter". Almost everywhere, at every party, at every gathering, they were seen together, dressed in the most fashionable gowns, being perfectly happy and dancing and having fun together. Almost everywhere, the court would gather round them and desperate courtiers would try to obtain their favours.

"Wyatt asked again after you…" Anne said mysteriously entering Ava's chambers without knocking or being announced as she always did.

"What a surprise…" the girl said sarcastically still trying to find a pair of suitable earrings for her green dress.

"Those ones…" the other woman said , handing in , from the desk a pair of golden earrings with white pearls. "Why won't you give the boy a chance?"

"Because he is just a mere poet… plus he was your lover too. It would be way too strange!" Ava answered trying on the jewellery that Anne picked for her. "Aren't they a bit too much? "She asked pointing at her ears.

"They are fine…" the woman answered " Anyway, let him write you some poems, let him dream of you, let him have false hopes…"

"Isn't that plain cruel?" Ava asked ironically turning towards Anne who was wearing a stunning purple dress.

"We won't be women if we were not cruel…" Anne said sarcastically. "Why are you getting so dressed up?" she asked seeing Ava checking herself in the tall mirror.

"Special occasion, honey…" she mocked.

"Care to say more… or should I find for myself?" The Boleyn girl joked.

"Don't bother, sweetie… I have been invited to dine in the sanctuary…" Ava said dramatically and Anne sniggered.

"Sanctuary?" she asked confused.

"My mother's apartments…" the girl explained and Anne raised a thin eyebrow in surprise.

"And you are going…" she stated the obvious.

"I have to. King's orders…" the other girl said in a bored manner.

"Oh… then good luck, I suppose…" Anne said ironically and kissed her cheek friendly.

"Thanks Anne! I will definitely need it!" Ava shouted after the girl who closed the door after herself and started laughing in the hallway at what her future "step-daughter" said. Anne was sure that Ava was going to have a heel of a time with the catholic Mary and their ever-so-pious mother.

* * *

_Dear reader,_

_I hope you will find this new chapter to your taste and I also hope that you will send any comment, be it good or bad, through the reviews._

_Faithfully yours,_

_The Author_


	3. Different Perspectives

_**Author note:** I am truly and awfully sorry that i have not updated for so long, but i had a terribly busy long period. I had my exams and i had an awful lot to study. I really ask for your forgiveness and promise that this will never happen again. I thank you for staying fateful and still wanting to read my story. I promise that the next update will be soon.  
_

_**Advice: **enjoy!_

_

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Chapter 3: Different Perspective

or What is and what seems

"God… wherever you are… have mercy on my soul and keep me sane…" Ava whispered softly as the lady in waiting introduced her in the dark, sumptuous apartment of the queen.

In the middle of the room, where a table was set, Queen Katherine awaited, with Mary by her side. The younger woman was sitting in front of her mother, showing a defiant expression towards her sister, as if warning the girl to be careful. Ava smiled inwardly at the scene thinking that in this story she was probably the villain rather than the victim. With a curt nod towards the queen she sat at the table with no further words and waited for the two women to start the conversation.

They had been eating in awkward silence, apart from some frivolous comments in the state of the weather, for more than thirty minutes when the king entered the chambers. Henry had the sudden inspiration to join the queen and their two daughters for lunch thinking that this way he could avoid distress of both parties. As he entered he saw that his beautiful Ava, perfectly dressed as always, was sitting apart from Mary and Katherine while the latter desperately tried to find a way to approach her daughter.

"Majesty…" Mary said calmly and nodded her head curtly in the same time as her mother.

"Daddy!" Ava said with the sudden free impulse that children have, and that usually made her so adorable.

"Ava… "He acknowledged the girl almost laughing at her sudden burst. She smiled a big, genuine smile that she reserved only for him and he felt like she was rewarding him for freeing her from the uncomfortable atmosphere. "How was your day, my ladies?" he politely addressed the question to all the women but particularly to Ava.

"Simply awfully boring!" the youngest answered promptly and Mary shook her head at her sister's lack of manners.

"Well, what can we do to redress such a terrible thing?" Henry asked half mocking, half serious, being prepared to spoil his girl as much as he could.

To some extent, Ava reminded him of Katherine, or better said, of what Katherine had been. With her grace and sweet disposition she was a vivid image of her mother when she was young. Katherine used to be like this: involved in his games and jousts, ready to enjoy a good time with him. But now, looking at the much older woman he couldn't find the girl he fell in love with. 'Age is an insurmountable enemy' he thought for a second before forcing himself to listen to what Ava had to say.

"… I was thinking about a feast… I want to dance! Or maybe a run in the forest... and maybe a picnic!" she said in an excided voice and he laughed at her rush of energy.

"I am more inclined towards a picnic but not today … tomorrow maybe…" he answered and she had a broad smile on her face almost instantaneously.

"Great! I will start making all the preparations for our expedition tomorrow" she decided suddenly regardless of the disapproving look Mary was throwing her.

"Do so!" he agreed and without looking back the girl ran towards the door to prepare what was necessary for their improvised party.

* * *

"Henry… I think we need to talk…" The queen said feebly looking after the recently closed door with deep sadness. Mary, feeling that her parents needed privacy slipped carefully from the room, decided to have a serious talk of her own, with her sister.

"Speak!" Henry said quickly, not even bothering to hide his displeasure and wish for the whole conversation to be over.

"About our daughter, Henry… I wanted to talk about Ava and the way in which she behaves." She said calmly, her voice faltering only slightly.

"What about her?" the king asked distracted.

"You tend to encourage her towards earthly joys, rather than encourage her to meditate on spiritual matters." The queen said calmly, thinking about what Chapuys had previously told her on the issue of the princess' inclination towards Lutheranism.

"I am not making a nun out of her!" Henry stated outraged. How dare she even question his methods of parenting?

"I was not referring to something so extreme!" she backed out a little bit. An outraged king would do no one any good.

"Then what? Only because she does not have the same beliefs like you it means that she is wrong! Maybe you are the one who is wrong! Maybe it is your God who does not exist!" Henry said with furry, all the anger held back at the fact that they did not have male issue surfacing now.

"Husband!" she said shocked.

"I am not your husband!" He followed with cruelty "The only good thing you have ever given me is Ava, and now you want to spoil her too!"

"Henry I merely want to teach her the ways of our rightful Lord "the queen said softly having tears in her eyes.

"No, Katherine. You want her to become servable and obedient like the ever-so- pious Mary. You want to teach her how to bow and be dutiful in front of the catholic authority. You want her not to think and merely listen, like Mary does!" Henry shouted again not even noticing the tears in the Queen's eyes.

"What is wrong with being pious like Mary?" she asked as her husband was shattering every hope she had of converting Ava in a respectable person.

"Mary is a failure… she has no will of her own; all she does is pray and she would rather be a nun than a princess. "He said cruelly.

"Mary is not…." She said softly, not believing what he was saying.

"Ava is radiant and beautiful, people admire and respect her… she is a true princess… she is my daughter." He finished coldly as the queen was almost physically breaking down in front of him.

"With every breath she takes, she defies the Holy Decalogue, Henry. With every word she says she breaks the commandment that says one should never go against his parents. With her every movement she defies us." The queen tried softly to make her husband see the mistakes of their younger daughter.

"Not 'us', Katherine. Not 'us'. She only defies and hates you" Henry said coldly and turned his back on the shattered woman. He stormed out of the room feeling some sort of peculiar sensation of power over his wife. She will never change Ava, his beautiful, perfect heir.

* * *

As this dramatic scene was happening in the Queens' rooms, two sisters had a quarrel of their own. The older one had cornered the younger in one of the younger's rooms and now was demanding some answers. Mary thought herself as a very righteous woman that could not stand wrongdoers, so she was now in Ava's apartments hoping that she would make her sister see the unfairness of her ways and make her amend her mistakes. Ava, on the other hand, with less esteem for morals than her sister, participated at this most disturbing interrogatory only out of sheer curiosity.

"You are no better daughter than you are a subject to her majesty…" Mary started her speech powerfully as Ava turned in surprise to see her sister staying in her rooms.

"Mary…what a nice surprise" the girl said falsely. "Can I help you with anything?" she continued as her sister's anger was clearly increasing.

"Stop it!" Mary commanded annoyed.

"My… my… I see etiquette was not such an important thing in Ludlow…" Ava mocked her sister.

"Why are you acting like this?" Mary almost yelled at her.

"It's called courteous behavior…" Ava replied ironically although she knew that it was not what Mary was referring to.

"Don't act as if you did not understand!" she said in an exasperated voice sensing that her sister was already having the upper hand.

"Maybe because I do not…" the girl continued to Mary's displeasure.

"Why do you treat our mother so badly?" Mary asked bluntly hoping that Ava will not be able to postpone the answer.

"I am merely returning the favor." Ava said for the first time being deathly serious.

"What?" the girl did not understand what her sister was saying. "What did mother do?"

"Tell me Mary, how many times have she visited you in the past seven years?" Ava asked with morbid curiosity.

"A few times…" she responded frankly, not yet understanding where Ava was heading.

"A few times…certainly more than I got" Ava said more to herself but Mary could perceive the bitterness in her voice.

"Only because she did not visit you?" Mary said confused and disgusted.

"She was and still is a poor mother!" Ava shouted annoyed.

The slap came quickly and coldly and the red mark on the beautiful skin was every sign that it ever happened. That and the tears in Ava Tudor's blue eyes. Mary quickly withdrew her hand, not believing that she had actually slapped her sister. She was so infuriating that the older princess had lost her good sense for a second.

"I am sorry…" Mary said calmly and truthfully.

"Please leave" Ava said coldly not even looking at her sister, obviously lost in a world of her own.

* * *

As Mary left, Ava sat on the floor touching the red spot on her skin. Memories came violently back. Cruel memories of violence, dark memories of pain, memories that made the little princess shake in fear and pain.

_"I love you" a seventeen year-old boy was telling a twelve year old girl. The Girl was beautiful and had an air of sensuality peculiar and yet attractive for such a young girl._

_"Oh, Eddie … you are lying…" the girl said sweetly with a flirtatious air in her bearing._

_"No, Ava I swear!" he said a bit over-zealously but the twelve-year old Ava did not have the experience to be afraid._

_"Liar... "She said playfully but the teenager did not understand her game. He had a fanatic expression in his eyes as she smiled and danced around him chanting the word : 'Liar'._

_"I am not a liar! I love you!" he yelled uncontrolled and grabbed her small hands with violence._

_His mouth collided with hers as tears of fear were steaming down her small face. His tongue found hers while he was taking off her small clothes. She wanted to shout, to scream to run, but he was too powerful. His fist collided with her jaw to silence her. His body found hers, and the twelve year-old Ava felt a sharp pain as red blood was streaming down her child legs._

_As if she were a useless carcass the young man discarded her after he was satisfied, and the princess was staying in pain on the wet ground of the forest. She still felt the cold blood down her legs and she smelled his breath as he once again approached her._

_"Why did you call me a liar?" he said a bit panicked at what he had done._

_Ava felt him come closer and closer. Not again. With shaking hands she took the knife that had fallen down from his pocket during the intercourse. He did not see her. He could not. The princess turned to face him, as he was coming , like a huge , greedy bird. He was so close that she could feel the cold touch of his skin._

_"Eddie…" she said in a rasp voice as the man smiled like a snake. "Not again." It was not a plead but a sentence and the man only understood that when he felt Ava's child hands plug the small hunter knife in his heart._

_

* * *

_"Your Grace, are you feeling well?" Lucy said calmly seeing her mistress curled up on the floor.

"Yes… I was thinking about your brother… Eddie." Ava said perfectly composed.

"Such a sad ending for such a fine lad…" Lucy said with remorse at the memory of her older brother. She did not know what had happened. No one knew.

"Yes… such a sad ending…" Ava repeated thinking calculatedly at the face of her raptor.

"Not even now, after two years, they do not know who did it… who stabbed him, I mean." Lucy said with tears in her eyes at the memory of her lost, kind brother.

"And no one will ever know…" Ava said softly for herself and Lucy could not hear the words of her mistress.

* * *

The dark chamber seemed even more frightening as an air of sadness was invading the room. The Queen stood by the fire thinking at what her husband had told her. Henry was so vain that he could not see the mistakes he made by allowing Ava to leap out of the true faith. But thinking about it, it was Henry himself who was decided to stride away from Catholicism.

"Madam… Princess Ava. "One of her ladies in waiting announced the princess and her daughter entered the room with a haughty bearing.

"Ava" Katherine said softly seeing her daughter.

"My queen…" the girl greeted formally. She was too tired to have another argument with another member of her family.

"Please , my darling, come nearer…" the queen said softly and Ava obeyed out of duty rather than out of filial affection.

The queen took her daughter's hands in hers and the girl flinched at the familiar touch. Katherine smiled softly and kindly at this short expression. Ava looked at the woman coldly although she did not withdraw her hands. It was an odd feeling that the girl was experiencing. One part of her wanted to hug her mother dearly but the other part constantly reminded her that had her mother been more understanding and allowed her to stay at the court all her misfortunes would have not occurred. So Ava decided to just sit in the armchair in front of the queen and let the older woman hold her hands.

"Darling, it is so good to see you back…" the queen said gently although the girl's expression was not even remotely warm. "How have you been?" the woman followed seeing that Ava was not responding.

"Fine." She said in a freezing voice, remembering the awful memories that Mary's slap brought back.

"You are so beautiful. I want you to have this" Katherine said warmly and placed in her daughter's hand a beautiful white rosary. "It was my mother's and now it is yours."

"Why?" Ava asked with curiosity looking at the beautiful jewel.

"Because when you do not know what to do or you feel bad, praying can help." Katherine answered warmly hoping that Ava would understand.

"Thank you." She once again transformed her voice into a cold one sensing that it was a trap regarding religious matters. With swift moves she stood up and was prepared to leave the room. As far as she was concerned, the audience was over.

"You grew up into such a fine lady. I wish I could have been there" the queen said saddened that the girl wanted to leave so quickly.

"You had Mary." Ava stated blankly, not even bothering to turn and look at the pained face of her mother. Instead, she gracefully exited the room.

* * *

In the dark corridor, the ephemeral figure of the princess was moving with supernatural grace. The moon was making her face seem even paler and the lights of the candles were reflected in her deep blue eyes. She still held the rosary from her mother. For a second she looked through a window at the city of London extending to the dark horizon. She lifted her hand with the rosary dangling into thin air. She could throw it out of the window. The Christ on the Cross was looking disapprovingly at her. Instead of throwing the rosary away she put it around her neck, well hidden by other more impressive jewels.

* * *

_Dear reader,_

_Thank you for bothering to read this chapter. I hope you liked it! If you have read my other story (the queen ) i want to ask out of sheer curiosity, who do you like better : Ava or Kat ? And of course why... Please send your answer and other useful comments through your reviews... _

_Forever in your debt,_

_the author._


	4. Daughter and Father

A/N: After a long time I decided to get my act together and write another chapter for The Portrait of the Unknown One. I have no idea how many of you are still following it, but for those that are still reading this work of fiction, I do promise that I will complete it. I owe it to myself and most of all I owe it to you.

Advice: Enjoy it and don't judge Ava too much. Remember she is only 14.

* * *

Chapter 4: Daughter and Father

or The Value of Family Loyalty

The Christ on the cross looked at her with judging eyes as she was observing the white rosary for the hundredth time. She had been avoiding thinking about it for quite a while, the same way she had been avoiding both her mother and sister since that fateful day. Usually she just kept it hidden behind her jewellery, its long chain making the feat incredibly easy. But today, in a sudden fit of rebellion the treacherous necklace got tangled in Ava's hair and as the princess struggled to free it she could not help but look at it. The Christ on the cross seemed sad, judging and most of all resigned to his fate. Quite frankly he looked a lot like her mother did. Not that the girl saw the woman much.

She quickly learned that the safest way to avoid being in her mother's, or Mary's for that matter, presence was to immerse herself with great vigour in the court life. So much like a war refugee seeking asylum, Ava participated in each and every activity at court. She even initiated some of them with the desperation of one who needs to quench his thirst. She took part in plays, dances, organized dinners and lunches, picnics and hunting parties but like those who drink vinegar to stop feeling thirsty, she could not suppress a nagging feeling that something was missing. That something was not right.

"What do you know? You are nothing but a trinket…" she whispered softly and put the jewel on her writing desk. It did not feel right. After a moment's thought, with a soft sigh of defeat, she placed it round her neck and stared blankly at the window.

The weather was as dark as it could get. Ignoring the gloomy weather, Thomas Moore walked towards the chambers of the younger princess. It was a surprise for the chancellor that the kings' daughter wanted to see him but he complied nonetheless. As he entered the room he could see Ava Tudor sitting comfortably on a couch looking at the incredible amount of rain falling on England's capital.

He took a minute to look at the young girl. At that exact moment, relaxed on the sumptuous comforter she seemed like the perfect symbiosis between Henry Tudor and Catherine of Aragon. Her hair was let down on her shoulders, her position slightly hunched, her hands playing with the ornaments of her blue dress. But it was not in her physical appearance where he saw it although she did seem to have taken the best from each parent. No. In was in her expression. Her skin was paler than usual and dark circles were beginning to form under her eyes. A clear indicator that whatever was troubling the princess made her loose some sleep over it. Like Henry did when he was deep in thought, she had her jaw clenched and a slight frown on her face. Yet so, her eyes were her mother's. If it were not for those eyes Thomas would have expected the princess to throw a tantrum, stomp her foot, shout "I am the king of England" and storm out of the room. But those clear blue eyes, widened slightly, filled with confusion determination and a touch of sadness, made the man feel for a moment that he was looking upon the queen.

The princess seemed more subdued than ever. No playful smile tugging at her lips. No flirty glimmer in her eyes. Her body did not posses the swan-like grace it usually did which turned the heads of all men in the court. For once the princess looked like she was supposed to: like a child. A sad, frustrated child who did not have the maturity to understand the workings of this world.

"Mr Chancellor… " she said, acknowledging his presence as soon as it was announced by her usher.

"My lady…"he bowed respectfully.

"Mr Chancellor, if I am to ask you a question are you to answer truthfully?" the girl turned her formidable blue gaze upon him, and any air of frailty or weakness that she might have displayed earlier was quickly dispelled.

"To the best of my ability, my lady" he met her blue eyes without fear

"Why is the king seeking an annulment?" she asked plainly, simply, her voice refusing to show the turmoil that had taken a hold of her soul.

"The king is desperate for a male heir, milady…" Thomas More answered truthfully, sighed deeply and looked at the young girl in front of him. Although she tried to hide it beneath the rigours of her rank she was still so very young, so very innocent.

"So Mary isn't enough. I am not enough…"her proclamation was childish, but the chancellor did not expect anything less from the girl. After all she was a child.

Ava had briefly thought on several occasions about the line of succession to the throne, but she had never given it much consideration. As only the second child of the royal family, she had been protected by the machinations and conspiracies regarding the succession. Truth be told, as she had stayed in the countryside for at least half of her life, she had been unaware of how important the matter of inheriting the throne was. In her innocence, she knew that Mary would become queen and that if something happened to her sister, to whom she desire no evil, no matter how much she disliked the girl, she would be the natural successor. It had never even crossed her mind that the king wanted a male heir. Even in the months she had spent at court, she had taken it for granted that the king was divorcing the queen and assumed that it was because he was in love with Anne. Finding out that her father, who had been complementing her and showering her with gifts, proclaiming that she was his entire universe, believed that she was not suited to become his successor hurt her. Not because she had any desire to rule England, far from it, but because, in her young mind, her father, her parent who she had believed that could do no wrong, wanted something better. He wanted a boy.

In her fourteen year-old mind, the world was black and white. Good and evil. Using this faulty logic she looked at her parents in the same way. The King was the caring father and the queen was the evil mother who had sent her away in the middle of nowhere. While she had been stuck in the countryside with a myriad of servants that showed her deference but no real affection, she used to imagine her father fighting with the queen daily, trying to convince her to allow their daughter to return to court. She created this impenetrable view of her father as a broad-shouldered fair prince who tried to bring her home but failed because of the evil machinations of her mother. Had she been deluding herself the entire time? In light of what the chancellor had said and of what she knew about the court, it was apparent that she operated on faulty concepts and suppositions. After all, Henry VIII was king and his word was law. If she looked at it from a new perspective, she supposed that had the king ordered his wife to bring their child home, her mother could have done little to prevent it. Ava felt at a loss. Now she had two uncaring parents instead of one and cursed her own curiousness. Because she had refused to continue living in blissful ignorance, she now had an unfeeling mother who didn't spare a second glance on the day she left the palace and an equally cold father who did nothing to bring her back to court.

* * *

Since she had arrived at court, it had been customary for Henry and Ava to be seen together taking long walks within the castle's park. Almost every day, father and daughter would be spotted walking side by side, the same purposeless stride to their step and a certain amount of gaiety in their voices and animated expressions. Truth be told, they were so much like one another that the courtiers suspected that had the princess been a prince, she would have been a carbon copy of the king. Instead, she still retained the delicacies and qualities of her recently developed womanhood and managed to join them with the independence and stubbornness she had inherited from her father to form a delightful, if slightly less conventional, combination.

As they walked side by side on the same path they took almost every day, Henry could not help but notice that his daughter was slightly less vibrant than usual and that a shadow of some sort was darkening her fair features. He loved her like every father loves his child and despite her absence from court and from his life he knew how to recognize her moods well. The king had noticed her be sad before, especially after certain encounters with either her mother or her sister, but she had always known how to put on a joyful expression, not for her own benefit but for the benefit of those in her company.

"Father, why are you divorcing the queen?" The king looked up to his daughter in surprise. Never before had she questioned his motives and he had never expected her to. He supposed that she would take everything that was happening in her stride and that she would adjust. Especially as she seemed to be such great friends with Anne. But her sad expression told him otherwise.

"Is this what has so troubled?" he recovered quickly and forced himself to look away from her blue eyes. Catherine's eyes.

"I meant no disrespect… I merely wished to know why " she quickly dropped the subject sensing that her parent was less than pleased that she had brought it up.

"Why do you want to know? What have you heard?" he knew that despite his better efforts to contain them, rumours were flying around the court.

"I heard that Mary and I are not enough to satisfy Your Majesty" she answered simply, her voice so low that the king had to strain himself to catch her words.

"Oh, my child…" he replied, his tone filled with emotion "It's not that… I wish you could see… I wish you could understand…"

"Then tell me. Explain to me!" she said more forcefully, her eyes glistening with the tears she tried so hard to contain

"You are so very young, my dear…" he cupped her cheek and Ava looked up at her father and saw his blue eyes filled with nothing but remorse

"If you were divorcing the queen to seek happiness with another, my heart would not have pained me so. I would have understood. But you are not. You are annulling your marriage because of an accident of birth. Because Mary and I are not enough…" now tears were streaming freely on her cheeks and she didn't fight them any more.

Looking at the wretched expression of his younger daughter Henry felt a pang of guilt within his heart for what she had said was true. Had Katherine been able to produce male issue for the throne he would have probably never tried to dissolve their marriage. After all, the queen had been an excellent companion, rigorous in both her wifely duties and duties as a queen, and knew how to gracefully turn a blind eye at his extra-conjugal escapades. His soul was torn. The heart of a father that was beating inside his chest wished nothing more than erase those tears from his beloved daughters' eyes and tell her that he would give her more than England to see her happy and smiling again. The mind of a king dutifully reminded him that no woman had ever successfully ruled England and that he was risking civil war if he didn't managed to produce a male heir. As such, Henry said nothing but instead took his child into his arms, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, and cradled her as she quietly wept against his chest.

* * *

After her father had excused himself and explained as gently as possible that he had important matters to attend to, Ava politely declined his offer of accompanying her to the castle and decided to continue her walk in the garden to settle her nerves. Had it not been for their most recent discussion and for his daughter's fragile state of mind, Henry would have pointed out that it was in poor form for a lady of her status to be seen alone, unaccompanied by her ladies in waiting. Yet, in that particular instance, the king felt that it would be better to let his daughter be. It was in that troubled frame of mind, with her eyes swollen from crying and cheeks flushed with agitation, that Thomas Whytt found the princess, shortly after the king returned to his business. Wishing to be of assistance and wanting to make the princesses' good cheer return, the poet quickly proposed a respite under a particularly large tree and tried to make the girl laugh with some of his wittier verses. It was in that position, lying on the grass, side by side, both looking at the uncommonly blue sky that dusk found them.

"Maybe man will be able to fly in the future." The girl said softly looking at the increasingly redder sky. "I wish I was able to fly. I would go so high… you would not even see me anymore…" she smiled looking at the poet.

"That would certainly be a waste, my lady." He said looking into the girl's blue eyes. "The court would not be the same without you"

"Had I not known better, Master Whytt, I would say that you were flirting with me…" she replied in a coquette manner noticing how a tinge of red spread across his cheeks. "Are you?"

"What, my lady?"

"Flirting with me?"

"Nothing gets past you, my princess" the poet studied his companion's lovely face and gave an exaggerated sigh to accompany his admission. "Although, it seems that even my attempts at cheering you with pleasantries and flirts are unfortunately failing"

"You are in the wrong, Master Whytt, for your flirts have been the highlight of my day…" she answered, flashing a brilliant, yet fake smile towards the man

"If I may be so bold…" he started tentatively and the princess nodded, granting him the permission to follow upon his words "I believe there is another whose words you would find much more comforting than mine"

"Do you wish to rid yourself of my presence, Master Whytt?" she asked, a smile of derision appearing on her lips

"Not at all, my lady. I only wish the best for you…" he said calmly

"And who is this magical person, sir? Pray tell me" her tone was light and hid the heaviness in her soul well.

"The queen" he answered simply and the girl stiffened involuntarily, her eyes throwing daggers towards him

"And why would you believe that her majesty could offer any kind of comfort?" she inquired, her tone dangerously low, putting a mocking emphasis on the woman's title.

"Because she is your mother" he replied in an equally honest voice. Under normal circumstances, Thomas would have never involved himself in the affairs of the royal family. Yet, working in the chancellor's office, hearing about the endless troubled through which the queen was going and the grace with which she managed to face them all, made him respect his sovereign. Furthermore, the rift between mother and daughter was obvious to the entire court and while the queen was taking it all in her stride as well and as gracefully as she could, and the princess was avoiding her mother religiously, he knew that the situation hurt both of them. He had come to care for the younger daughter of the royal couple and not only because she was extremely beautiful and stirred within him feeling which, because of her rank and his status, were best left unexplored, but also because Ava, in her youth and innocence, needed a friend. She needed some form of guidance, and Thomas, as the older and more knowing of the two, felt the need to provide it.

"An uncaring and unfeeling mother" she said simply, dryly.

"It seems that you have a wrong image of the queen, my princess, for she is the most gracious and caring of beings" he answered, his words nothing but a true statement of what he felt.

"And here was I thinking that you were a supporter of Lady Anne's cause" Ava replied with derision, her blue eyes penetrating the man's gaze

"Anne is a dear old fried, but that does not mean that I condone what she is doing. Nor that I respect the queen any less" the divorce and the relationship that the king had with Anne were something that was only whispered about within the court. Speaking about it in the open with anyone, much less the king's daughter, was akin to treason and was insanely dangerous. Yet he knew enough about Ava to know that she would not retell this conversation to anyone, mostly because she realized how dangerous was for her friend to make such declarations. With a nod of her head, a more pensive look on her face than before, she bid the poet good bye and left towards the castle unaccompanied. Thomas wasn't sure what kind of repercussions his words would have but he hoped that the young girl would heed his advice.

* * *

Katherine of Aragon believed that interrupting one's prayers to tend to other less spiritual matters showed great disrespect towards God. Yet, when one of her ladies in waiting entered her small private chapel and told the queen that her younger daughter was waiting for her, Katherine muttered a quiet plea of forgiveness towards her Lord and immediately went to see Ava. For the past month the young princess had avoided her mother like plague, going as far as to disregard direct orders to join her for meals. This, together with Mary's departure to Ludlow and Henry's continuous absurdity, had made the woman retreat more and more into her rooms and seek refuge in prayers. Now that she saw her youngest child in her rooms, albeit looking thinner and more tired than usual, she knew that at least part of her prayers had been answered.

Ava looked at her mother and fidgeted nervously, wondering what had possessed her to come and see the woman. Her mother was wearing a simple, red gown over her night clothes, her hair braided on her shoulder and her face showing clear surprise towards her visitor. The girl looked into the woman's blue eyes and expected to see judgement, even distaste, after all it had been clear that a few hours ago she wanted nothing better than to sever all connections to the queen. Yet, in those big, expressive eyes, so much like her own, the young princess saw nothing but infinite kindness and love. She averted her eyes for that look shamed her and reminded her of all her shortcomings. There was an uncomfortable silence in the air, Katherine being silent because she did not want to scare her girl away and Ava because she didn't know what to say. Why had she come? A few minutes ago, especially after the discussion she had with Thomas, it had seemed like a pertinent idea. Now, it only seemed like it was a form of mental torture.

Sensing her daughter's distress, and being saddened by the fact that her own child was uncomfortable in her presence, Katherine raised her hand and extended it towards the girl. Ava looked at the raised hand, and felt her cheeks colour with embarrassment. Quietly she placed her own marble white hand in that of her mother's and the queen guided them both on a comforter in her own private sitting room. There, staying side by side, the sovereign held her child's hand and Ava looked upon her mother and felt tears threatening to spill. In that private, intimate atmosphere the princess cried and her parent held her with infinite gentleness. As Ava buried her head in the woman's chest, listening to the comforting sound of her heartbeat, and allowed her tears to fall in salty rivers on her cheeks, neither said a word. They did not dare to.

* * *

AN: If some of you still follow this story I would appreciate it if you could some your comments/thoughts on this chapter in your reviews


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